


Because the Night

by rabbitxheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek loves 70's music, F/M, M/M, by god I mean jeff davis, word of god made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitxheart/pseuds/rabbitxheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff said Derek was a 70's rock kinda guy, and this is what happened<br/>or<br/>Derek's iPod is revived and becomes their accidental soundtrack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because the Night

 

”Dude, thanks!” Stiles cheers as Derek jumps back into the jeep smelling of food. ”I'm starving.” He lets out a satisfied sound and tears into his burger. Derek sideyes him as he does the same, only with a slightly gloomier expression.

”You're welcome. And don't call me dude.”

”So, did the mall cop smell like death?”

”Death by takeout maybe, but not corpse from what I can tell. He’ll be done with closing up in about 30 minutes so we have time to eat.”

”Okay. D'you get any mayo?” Derek hands him the bag the burgers came in, rolling his eyes at the same time as his burger falls apart all over his front.

”I still can't believe you eat mayonnaise with your french fries.” Stiles hands him a napkin, snorting.

”Says the man with blue cheese dressing all over his chin.” There's a hint of a smile on Derek's lips, quickly hidden by the napkin. ”Besides, I'm not taking culinary reprimands by someone who chomps down on live deer during his forest escapades.”

”It was a super moon and Boyd had already taken it down.”

”Still a living deer, Derek.” He quips and flicks a burnt piece of fry at Derek.

”Shut up, Stiles.”

People are, as per usual, turning up dead, and they all have had one thing in common- they have all been arrested for shoplifting at the same mall. His phone vibrates on his dashboard, the soft notes of Landslide telling him it’s his dad. Derek hands it to him, blatantly staring at him.

After reassuring his father he’s not going to have parties while he’s away in San Francisco for the weekend, Stiles hangs up and puts the phone back where it sat on the dashboard.

 

Derek’s still staring.

 

“What?”

“That song, what was it?”

“Oh, it’s a Smashing Pumpkins cover of a Fleetwood Mac song.” Derek just nods and goes back to eating. “Why?”

“I had the album on vinyl.”

 

Now it’s Stiles’ time to stare, which he does until the mall cop, who turns out to be a wendigo, tries to climb in through the driver side window to join the dinner party.

 

***

Stiles loved the Camaro, he really did. Still does. He’ll miss it. His mother had a thing for Camaros and he still has pictures of her and that red one, the one she sold to buy the jeep, but he has to admit… The Toyota has its perks, especially if you call shotgun quick enough (and no way he’s sitting between Isaac and Scott all the way to Sacramento).

One of them being a really, really good stereo that’s currently connected to an old iPod. Derek’s old iPod that Stiles has spent a whole night fixing for him, swearing at iTunes and updating it for the first time in years. He scrolls through the Top 25 songs, finding Don’t Fear the Reaper, but being on their way to meet up with another pack he thinks better of it and keeps scrolling.

“Dude!”

“What?” Derek asks, and then cringes, most likely for reacting to the word ‘dude’ in the first place.

“Are we having a Wayne’s World moment?” He looks to the two in the back seat and Scott is already grinning. Stiles quickly forwards to the right part of the song. “We’re having a Wayne’s World moment.”

“Stiles, _no_ -”

All Derek’s protests are drowned out by Stiles pressing play and Bohemian Rhapsody blasting out of the speakers, all three teens singing along and ignoring him completely.

 

Derek is still trying not to smile when they walk up to the other alpha and Stiles counts it as a win even before the meeting over and both packs are happy with the results.

 

***

Scott and Isaac are asleep in the backseat on their way home again. It’s dark outside and Stiles watches as the lights pass by, not asleep but hovering near the edge of it.

“Can you change the song?” Derek asks, voice soft and low. He’s still focused on the traffic, not that there’s much of it this time of day.

“You don’t like Bob Seger?” He changes the song anyway, something he doesn’t really recognize at first but turns out to be the original version of Landslide.

“Laura used to listen to it every time we had to pack up and leave.” Turn the Page is number six on the most played-list on the iPod and Stiles frowns a little, imagining how many times they must’ve packed up. “I’m tired of running,” says Derek and Stiles nods, unsure of what to say. 

The silence that follows is much more comfortable than he expects it to be and it’s not long before he falls asleep against the window.

 

***

Derek and ms Blake break it off just a few months after whatever _it_ was started. Stiles has no idea what actually happened, none of them do, but she’s still nice to all of them in school and even if she looks sad for a while, she doesn’t look depressed. He has no idea about Derek, who’s as poker faced as ever, but he keeps turning up when his dad works nights to download music to his iPod.

If You See Her, Say Hello by Bob Dylan has slipped into top 25 and Stiles guesses that’s about as much he’ll ever get out of Derek. Instead he buys pizza from that place on Main that he knows Derek likes and makes sure it’s not too far into the Holy Grail when Derek knocks on his window. He doesn’t say anything, just sits down next to Stiles and takes a slice from the carton.

 

“Thanks,” he says five hours and two movies later, one leg out of the window and one still inside.

“Anytime,” Stiles replies.

 

Next time, Derek brings the food.

 

***

The first time they fuck, because that’s the only word he could ever use to describe it, they’ve just narrowly escaped a fiery death thanks to a rogue hunter who surprised them on their way home from the Sacramento pack.

Stiles is fucking sick of being scared and he tells Derek as much as he pulls Derek into the back of the car and on top of him. It’s adrenaline fuelled and desperate, the culmination of two years of affection and fear thinly veiled in sarcasm and banter, of constantly thinking they’ll die young. It’s fast and filthy, all sweat and raw emotion and both of them are hoarse with it when they come, Derek nearly collapsing against his back as Stiles scrabbles for purchase against the folded down backseat.

 

They drive home to Joy Division, a band Stiles has come to appreciate more and more, especially since Derek filled his iTunes with them.

As he’s about to get out of the car he hears Ian Curtis’ so distinctive voice sing _‘don’t walk away’_. Stiles leans back into his seat and takes Derek in, the tension in his shoulders gone, face not so haunted. A little nervous perhaps, but not scared.

He leans in and kisses Derek, soft and chaste in contrast the near hysterical sex the car still smells like, and doesn’t leave until he’s sure Derek is smiling.

 

***

Derek can sing.

Like, _really_ sing.

Stiles nearly falls off the counter the second Derek, still dressed in sweatpants and no shirt or socks- who does that while cooking, _honestly_ \- starts singing along to the radio. What makes it even weirder is that it’s not something he’d expect from Derek, something angry like Nine Inch Nails or possibly Tool.

No. It’s _Cosmic fucking Dancer_. Derek Hale is making pancakes for lunch while singing along to Cosmic Dancer. Cora and Isaac are out running so he can’t look to them for answers, either.

Derek looks over at him, eyebrows raised in question.

“Nothing,” Stiles replies and tries to read the bestiary instead of staring at Derek’s bare toes tapping to the rhythm of the song on the linoleum.

 

***

Stiles and Derek both like Because the Night. Stiles loves Patti Smith, always wanted something similar to her description of the emotional rollercoaster of being that vulnerable in someone else’s presence. Derek loves Bruce Springsteen in general, admits in dark of his bedroom that he’s one of the few musicians he’s ever identified with.

They keep the iPod on shuffle some nights, volume high enough for them to listen but low enough to hear the sound of sun kissed skin against pale and the hitches of breath as they try to keep their eyes open as long as possible. It’s near impossible when everything feels _so damn good_ , from the hand cradling the back of his head to the cool sheets against his back and Derek’s chest brushing against his with every wave of motion, but they try.

Derek falls asleep first, facing the door and with Stiles’ arms wrapped around his middle. A live recording starts playing and Stiles recognizes the piano as Because the Night long before the guitar starts. It’s slower and longer, this intro, builds up and makes his chest ache a little as it moves quicker and quicker. He listens to the lyrics for once, surprised to find that they too are different to the version he’s used to.

_"What I got I have earned, what I'm not I have learned"_ , sings Bruce, and it really makes sense to Stiles how this would be the music for Derek. The iPod runs out of battery and he reaches over Derek to turn off the speakers, making a mental note to add the Patti Smith version when he wakes up, then snuggles in behind Derek's warm back again.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed schmoop and then the picture of Derek cooking to Cosmic Dancer became too tempting.


End file.
